“As　much　as　possible　in　a　two…room　house。”

A　few　dogs；　not　too　far　away；　giving　themselves　over　pletely　to　whatever

they　were　up　to；　began　barking　excitedly。

I couldn’t bring myself to ask why Shekure’s late husband； a man who’d

emerged　victorious　from　so　many　battles　and　had　bee　the　proprietor　of　a

fief； saw fit to have his wife live together with his brother in a two…room

house。 Timidly and hesitantly； I asked my childhood beloved the following

question：　“Why　did　you　see　fit　to　marry　him？”

“I　was；　of　course；　certain　to　be　married　off　to　someone；”　she　said。　This　was

true； and it succinctly and cleverly explained her marriage in a way that

avoided　praising　her　husband　and　upsetting　me。　“You’d　left；　perhaps　never　to

return。　Disappearing　in　a　sulk　might　be　a　symptom　of　love；　yet　a　sulking　lover

is　also　tiresome　and　holds　no　promise　of　a　future。”　This　was　true　as　well；　but　it

wasn’t cause enough to marry that rogue。 It wasn’t too difficult to deduce

from　her　coy　expression　alone　that　a　short　time　after　I’d　abandoned　Istanbul；

Shekure had forgotten about me； like everyone else had。 She’d told me this

blatant　lie　to　mend　my　broken　heart；　if　only　a　little；　and　I　considered　it　a　sign

of　her　good　intentions；　which　demanded　my　gratitude。　I　began　to　explain　how

during my travels I couldn’t get her out of my thoughts； how at night her

image haunted me like a specter。 This was the most secret； most profound

agony　I’d　suffered　and　I　assumed　I’d　never　be　able　to　share　it　with　another；

the agony was quite real； but as I realized